


Situational Awareness

by misura



Category: King Arthur (2004)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-21
Updated: 2016-12-21
Packaged: 2018-09-11 11:14:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 876
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8977384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misura/pseuds/misura
Summary: "Your reckless behavior tonight does you little credit," Arthur said. He'd had warm water and clean bandages brought up.
Lancelot shrugged. "Three of them, two of us. I fail to see the recklessness."





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sasha_b](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sasha_b/gifts).



The fight had been short, ugly and barely worth the term.

It ended with three men on the floor (not dead, most likely, although Lancelot wouldn't say he cared overly much) and Arthur fussing over him like a mother hen in the room that's theirs for the night.

"Your reckless behavior tonight does you little credit," Arthur said. He'd had warm water and clean bandages brought up.

Lancelot shrugged. "Three of them, two of us. I fail to see the recklessness. Now, if there'd been, say, two dozen, I might have seen your point, but three?"

"I was referring to the woman."

"Ah." Lancelot presumed he'd been informed of her name at some point in the proceedings, but it seemed to have slipped his mind. "The woman. Of course."

Arthur frowned. Arthur had never taken a woman up to his room that Lancelot knew of - and he'd been keeping a fairly keen watch. Something to do with evenings and nights that would only be wasted otherwise. "Clearly, your attentions were unwanted."

"In my defense, they seemed welcome enough at first."

"Perhaps you only saw and heard what you wanted to see and hear." Arthur sighed. "Regardless, I fear there is little I can do about this bruise."

"It will heal. In time."

Arthur shook his head. "If it comes to real combat, I need you fit. Not recovering from some hurt that could have been easily avoided." _Insult to injury._

"We haven't seen 'real combat' for months, now. Half a year, almost."

"And I pray that it continues to be so," Arthur said. "But we must always be prepared."

"For war, yes. For women to flatter and smile at us even while they are planning to hit us over the head with a block of wood?"

"You prefer to be surprised?"

Lancelot grimaced. "I made a mistake. There, I admit it. Will that satisfy you?"

"I will agree that you made a mistake. The question is: did you learn from it?" Arthur sat down on the bed. "Next time, it may not be a mere bruise."

"A 'mere' bruise? What happened to this same bruise keeping me from being properly fit to fight by your side?" Lancelot rose. "But, fine, to answer your question, I believe I have. Would you like me to demonstrate my newfound wisdom?"

"You want to go back downstairs? I believe that ship has sailed. Besides, it is late and we need our sleep. We haven't the time to - "

Sitting down in another man's lap was hardly comfortable. Lancelot wondered at the willingness of women to do so - perhaps it was simply a matter of practice.

"You were saying?" Partially, it was the armor, of course.

"You should lean into me more," Arthur said, cool as you please. "And your arms should go around me, not hang idly by your side."

_Better._ And not, at the same time. "Shall I whisper sweet nothings in your ear, next?"

"Is that what she did?" Arthur looked up at him.

Lancelot's lips felt dry. "Yes. Would you like me to repeat them to you?" He didn't believe he'd be able to recall all of them - or any of them, really.

Still, she had hardly been the first woman to have landed in his lap.

"I do not believe that will be necessary. Very well, you have proven your point. And yet - "

Lancelot managed not to groan. "And yet?"

"In spite of all of your actions, would my attentions be any more welcome than yours were? Granted, the _appearances_ of welcome were all present, but for all that you are nestled against me as snug as a lover, the fact remains that we are _not_ lovers. You may not hit me over the head with a block of wood if I were to kiss you, but it would only be because I am your commanding officer."

"Yes. You being my commanding officer is foremost in my thoughts right now, trust me."

"It should be."

Lancelot considered getting up. He was still far from comfortable, but the closeness was growing on him fast; it was mostly the many layers of clothes and armor between them that bothered him now.

"There was more," he said.

"I saw," Arthur said. "But - "

Not the easiest thing: to kiss someone when you were sitting in their laps. Lancelot imagined that, too, was a matter of practice.

Arthur was the one to break away first. He was breathing hard, which was more than a little gratifying.

"Lancelot. Stop this. I concede. You were right, and I had no right to rebuke you."

_Very_ gratifying, and yet ... not. "Sorry, what were we arguing about again? I was distracted."

"You are a terrible liar," Arthur said.

"Would you like to hit me over the head with a block of wood? I promise you, I will hold still for it."

"I provoked you. The fault was mine."

Lancelot considered. It was hard to think clearly with the memory of kissing Arthur still so fresh. "And if I were to do it again, without any provocation, this time? What, then?"

"Then I suppose you force me to reevaluate the situation."

Not the most promising of prospects, but Lancelot supposed he'd take it all the same. "Do."


End file.
